Marco never wavered in his commitment to his wife, and Dorothy blames him for his own death. He entered the slaughterhouse and kissed her, which surprised her. Dorothy was briefly conflicted, wondering if she could still spare his life. Instead, she cuffed his hands to a chain overhead and fellated Marco, slitting his throat when he relaxed after climaxing. He died almost instantly as the blood poured into the gutter beneath.

Dorothy writes that she doesn’t like the crude use of the word “butcher,” which ignores the finery of the craft. She also has issues with the word “cleaver” (167). She wanted to do a proper schechita on Marco’s body—an intricate ritual of butchery. She rigged up a pulley system of chains to position him.

She writes that she skinned Marco, and his intestines fell out. She wanted his brisket and stomach. She emptied his stomach before drawing pentagrams and goat heads in blood on the walls as a misdirection. She then bundled his meat up in parcels.

The police asked if she’d seen mysterious men around Marco. She had already created an alibi. The night before, she got drunk, spilled wine on herself, and then got even drunker in a hotel.